


What If?

by SerenityFalconNormandy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dragon Age II Quest - Demands of the Qun, Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Here Lies the Abyss, Gen, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Here Lies the Abyss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 02:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19368100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenityFalconNormandy/pseuds/SerenityFalconNormandy
Summary: What if Gwyneth was the warden met by Marian Hawke and company during the First Battle of Kirkwall?What if she was also Marian's Warden contact during Here Lies the Abyss in Inquisition?





	1. Kadan, Basalit-An

Smoke choked the air as Marian lead the group through Lowtown. Aveline was by her side, grim-faced and silent. She could feel the resentment rolling off the Guard-Captain, but Marian knew she had been right to side with the elves who had fled to the Qunari. Between what had happened with the elves and Leandra’s death at Quentin’s hands, she had very little patience to spare with ‘the law’ and its representatives.

 

“Hawke-”

 

“Not now, Aveline, there’re more important things to worry about.”

 

A shout distracted them. Clustered up in a battle formation, a group of Grey Wardens was battling a Sten and his squad. Thorny vines were lashing some of the grey-skinned soldiers - _ what’s a Dalish mage doing with Grey Wardens?- _ and with a skill that rivaled Sebastian’s, arrows  _ thwipped _ between the combatants to keep another squad at bay. Two dwarves in dragonbone armor were smashing the reinforcements’ Sten into a bloody pulp. 

 

Standing ahead of the archer and Dalish mage was a blurry form, dancing around the body of the first Sten as it crashed to the ground, lifeless. The blur held a shield aloft, and a glowing sword. A Qunari archer took aim at the Dalish mage, and the sword pointed at him. A vortex of elemental energy formed under the archer, and he raised his hands to protect his face from the dirt and pebbles whipped up in it. Another squad of Wardens appeared from a side alley as if they’d been there all along, and Marian yelled over her shoulder, “We need to help them.”

 

Between the Wardens and her own troop, they made quick work of the Qunari. One of the Wardens stepped forward and removed their helm, then nodded his head to her. He was older, dark hair, with a ridiculous mustache. 

 

“Somehow, I knew it would be you, Stroud.” The blur faded from the Warden who held the sword and shield she sheathed her weapon and slung her shield across her back. Removing her helm, she revealed large, tilted Stoneheart green eyes, a braided coronet of fiery red hair, pointed ears, and a stony glare. “That attack was… unexpected.”

 

The male Warden, Stroud, stiffened. In a thick Orlesian accent, he snarled, “Warden-Commander Surana. I have told you, Weisshaupt does not make  _ requests. _ ”

 

Her eyes narrowed at him. “I won’t answer to a First Warden that claims the Blight I fought in was no such thing.” She turned to Marian. “You have my sincere thanks.”

 

“Warden-Commander  _ Surana? _ ” Marian’s eyes widened at the small elven woman as Aveline let out a gasp and hurriedly bowed. “Your Grace, it’s an honor-”

 

“None of that,  _ Hawke. _ ” A slight smile raised crinkles at the corners of her eyes as Marian gaped at her. “You look similar enough to your cousin, Solona Amell, to be sisters.”

 

Marian swallowed down a stab of pain at the reminder of Bethany, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

 

Gwyneth made a displeased noise in the back of her throat, “If you have to call me anything other than Gwyneth or Gwyn, call me Warden-Commander.” She turned back to Stroud, “I’m here for the Fereldan Crown, not the Wardens. Now, scurry off to the First Warden like a good little lackey.”

 

Stroud frowned at Gwyneth and Marian butted in before he could speak, “Not that Warden politics aren’t fascinating, but as you can see,” She swept a hand to indicate the burning buildings and dead Qunari, “We have a bit of a problem on our hands.”

 

Her mouth twisted, just a fraction. “I can see that. Very well, my Wardens and I will accompany you, for good or ill, Hawke. I won’t go back to Denerim only for Sol to ring a peal over my head for not doing so.”

 

“Warden-Commander, Wardens do not involve themselves in the affairs of nations.”

 

“Wardens may not, but I do. Simply existing is getting involved in politics when you’re a mage or an elf, Stroud. And in the real world, Wardens get involved all the bloody time. Now piss off, and make sure to warn the other cities of the Marches that war may be coming.” Everyone gave the tiny elven Warden an incredulous look. 

 

She pulled on her helmet, and snapped, “C’mon, or there won’t be a city to save. Hawke, this is Nathaniel Howe, my second in command,” she pointed to the others in turn, brisk and efficient, “Velanna, Sigrun, and Oghren. We were here to follow up on some of His Majesty, King Alistair’s concerns. Right now, that’s not as important as stopping this invasion.”

 

* * *

 

They fought through to Hightown, stopping a pair of Qunari from taking a noblewoman captive. Between bouts of fighting, Marian quickly relayed what had happened to Gwyneth. At the mention of Isabela and the Tome of Koslun, the Warden-Commander stopped, incredulous. “Isabela? Captain Isabela caused all of this?”

 

“She never told any of us anything until her ass was on the line, then took off. I trusted her to turn the Tome over for the sake of the people here in Kirkwall.” Marian felt a growl of frustration raise in her throat. “If I ever see her again, it will not be a happy reunion.”

 

Gwyneth sounded like she was going to say something, but all of them were blasted off their feet by a shockwave of magic. Marian lifted her head, watching the world swim around her as a Saarebas dripping in chains came forward, magic crackling across his hands. Lifting her hand, trying to summon the concentration to get a barrier up over the group, she felt an odd numbness right before the Saarebas’ magic fizzled in his hands and a sword sprouted through his chest. When the body fell, she felt a cold pit in her stomach. She knew what it meant before she turned to confirm.   _ Knight-Commander Meredith. _

 

Icy blue eyes raked over the group of nine that staggered back to their feet. “I am Knight-Commander Meredith.” Focusing in on Marian, the ice in her eyes and voice grew, “I know you. The name ‘Hawke’ has turned up in my reports many times. Too many. But that doesn’t matter now.”

 

Meredith turned away, pointing to the Viscount’s Keep and telling them that the nobility were being taken there. When Marian asked why they’d take hostages, Fenris pointed out they would be given the chance to convert or die. Gwyneth let out a frustrated noise. Marian’s eyes flicked to the side. The Sten that had murdered the Wilian family had fought in the Blight with the Warden-Commander; was she now regretting saving him from his cage? Meredith sneered out, “Charming,” in turn.

 

“I’ll do whatever it takes to defend my home,” Marian snapped at the Templar Knight-Commander.

 

“Good. I’ll overlook your own use of magic, for the moment.”

 

“You’ll overlook it permanently, Knight-Commander,” Gwyneth stepped forward and removed her helm again. 

 

“You do not command me, Warden-Commander Surana,” Meredith’s eyes went absolutely frigid. “But somehow I am not surprised to see you encouraging  _ this _ .”

 

“Hawke’s done more for Kirkwall than you or your Templars, Knight-Commander,” The wrapping on the Knight-Commander’s sword creaked as her grip on it tightened.  Hawke braced herself to fight again, but Surana continued, “If I have to write to Divine Justinia to keep her out of your claws, I will.”

 

Shockingly, the Knight-Commander spun away, “Enough! Meet me in the Keep, these creatures will pay for this outrage.” Meredith  marched off, visibly seething at being spoken to thusly, even moreso by a mage.

 

“I think you’ve made a powerful enemy, Gwyneth.” Marian murmured.

 

“Another?” she snorted. “My existence after slaying the Archdemon makes me powerful enemies every day, Hawke. I wasn’t kidding when I said I wasn’t going back to Denerim to have Sol ring a peal over my head. Getting her cousin killed, locked in the Circle, or made Tranquil - or all of the above - would certainly qualify me for one hell of a peal-ringing.”

 

“Well, when you put it that way…” Hawke’s voice shook.

 

Gwyneth’s face softened, “I’m sorry, there are larger forces than you know of at work. She-” Her head tilted to indicate the departed Knight-Commander, “is up in arms over Kinloch taking in mages who have run from Kirkwall. Reports of their condition are being sent to the Grand Enchanter and Most Holy, and it doesn’t look well for Meredith. It’s just a matter of getting someone somewhere to  _ do _ something about this Blighted mess.”

 

Marian gave her a wry grin, “Welcome to my life, Gwyneth. And Kirkwall in general.”

 

* * *

 

 

The entrance to the Keep was emptier than Marian had ever seen it. “This doesn’t look good.”

 

“No.” Gwyneth’s helmet had been smashed in fighting an Ashaad, so she had thrown it aside. Tendrils of red were plastered to the sides of her face, and bruises raising on her cheekbones. The bruising highlighted what had appeared to be freckles, but were instead venom-spray scars along the left side of her face.

 

“It’s now or never, though. First Enchanter Orsino and the Knight-Commander cannot hold off the rest of the Qunari forever,” Marian panted out.

 

The first thing they saw when they emerged was poor Viscount Dumar’s head rolling across the floor. The Arishok railed against the city’s nobles, the fire of a zealot burning in his eyes. When he spotted her, he stopped. “ _ Shanedan _ , Hawke. I expected you.”

 

His large form descended the staircase with surprising grace. “ _ Maraas toh ebra-shok _ . You alone are  _ basalit-an _ . This is what respect looks like,  _ bas _ . Some of you will never earn it.”

 

Marian’s stomach twisted with anxiety as she told the Arishok of what Isabela had done.  _ Of course he blames me for it. Leandra’s tradition continues, _ she thought to herself as he loomed closer. She thought she was going to faint when Fenris volunteered her to fight the Arishok, as  _ basalit-an _ , for the city. To his credit, he tried to back her up and fight with her, but was denied since he didn’t have respected status with the Qunari.

 

“I accept your challenge.” It sounded so breathless, Marian knew everyone could hear the nerves in her voice.

 

She felt Gwyneth’s hand on her shoulder, “ _ Shanedan _ , Arishok. I am Gwyneth Surana, Warden-Commander of Ferelden, Teyrna of Gwaren, Arlessa of Amaranthine, and most importantly to you, I think, the one known as  _ kadan _ to Sten of the Beresaad, slayer of the Archdemon Urthemiel. As such, I claim the right to stand at Hawke’s side and fight with her.”

 

His dark, unfathomable eyes raked over her small form. “I have heard your name, Warden-Commander. That Sten of the Beresaad does indeed speak highly of you, and named you  _ basalit-an _ when we spoke of the events of your Blight. I concede your right to stand with Hawke.” Turning away, he gestured for his men to clear the nobles to the sides of the room. He took his place at the base of the stairs, and lifted his giant hands into the air.

 

“ _ Meravas! _ So shall it be!”

 


	2. In War, Victory

The cave in Crestwood was, unsurprisingly, damp and full of mildew and mold. The scent was near-insupportable, and Fen’lath coughed against the smell. The noise echoed briefly, muffled by the slimy walls.  Varric wasn’t the only one in the Inquisition who disliked caves.

 

The scrape of a sword being unsheathed had her whirling around, and Fen blinked in surprise. An elven Warden, shorter than her, with flaming red hair and tired eyes held her weapon aloft. Fen felt a pull at the Veil, and the woman  _ shifted  _ between reality and the Fade, blurring and becoming vapor-like before directing the blade at her chest.

 

“Gwyn! It’s just us. I brought the Inquisitor.” Marian ran in, arm outstretched to stop the Warden.

 

“So I see. My name is Gwyneth Surana. At your service, Inquisitor.” Gwyn sheathed her sword, then walked to a rickety table with chairs that had been tucked out of sight in a corner of the cave. She dropped into one of the chairs with a weary sigh.

 

“Surana?” Fen turned to the other elven woman, wide-eyed. “The Warden-Commander who ended the Blight?”

 

“I’m not the Warden-Commander anymore, or the Chancellor of Ferelden. No titles, just Gwyneth or Gwyn will do.” 

 

“Gwyn. Thank you. For helping the Dalish in Ferelden, I mean.” Fen wanted to smack herself, she knew she was fawning like a  _ da’len _ . 

 

A faint smile curled the corners of Gwyn’s mouth. “I had to. I was born in a Dalish clan, did you know that? Apparently, I’m the last free Surana in Thedas.”

 

Fen nodded, starstruck. Shaking herself, she reminded herself she had a job to do, and returned to the matter at hand. She said, “Most of the Wardens disappeared. Then I run into a darkspawn magister named Corypheus. Do you think that one might have something to do with the other?”

 

“I’m positive they do. When Hawke slew Corypheus, Weisshaupt was happy to put  _ that  _ matter to rest.” She grimaced when she brought up the Warden fortress, “But, as I know from the Blight, an Archdemon can survive wounds that seem fatal. Another Warden I was acquainted with, Stroud, feared that Corypheus might possess the same power. His investigation uncovered clues, no proof. But not long after, Stroud told me every Warden in Orlais began hearing the Calling.”

 

Gwyn paused, motioning to Marian and Fen to sit down. “After that, it started affecting my Wardens in Ferelden, including King Alistair. Stroud departed for the Deep Roads immediately. You see why I had to start investigating myself?”

 

Marian sat forward, brow pinched. “I recall that being a bad thing from our chats. But I don’t remember you telling me about all  _ this! _ Gwyn-”

 

“It was a Grey Warden matter. Whether I like Weisshaupt or not, I am still bound by some of my oaths to them.” Gwyn rubbed her forehead. “It’s what tells a Warden that the Taint is going to claim them soon. It starts with dreams, then whispers. The Warden says goodbye and departs for the Deep Roads so they can take as many darkspawn bastards as possible with them, like Stroud did.”

 

“Every Grey Warden in Orlais and Ferelden is hearing that? They think they’re dying?” The lines in Marian’s face were deeper with tension.

 

“Not every Grey Warden,” Gwyn gave them a wry grin. “Most of Ferelden’s Wardens stopped hearing it around the time the Breach opened. I sent my people north while I investigated, and King Alistair confirmed it’s gone quiet for him.”

 

“If it’s tied to the Breach,” Fen mused, connecting dots, “then it’s almost definitely Corypheus’s doing.”

 

“That was my logic. Stroud wouldn’t listen, damn stubborn man. King Alistair almost went to the Deep Roads, until I pointed out that Calling dreams are usually different for each Warden, you just ‘know’ what they are. All the Wardens were having the same dreams, so it wasn’t a real Calling. None of the Wardens outside of my squad would listen to me.” She made an impatient noise, “Self-righteous bastards, the lot of them. They’d rather be martyrs. If we all fall to this false Calling of Corypheus’, who will be left to protect the world in the next Blight? We were lucky in Ferelden, we had two Wardens who survived to kill the Archdemon. The next Blight nexus might not be so fortunate if all the Wardens wipe themselves out now.”

 

“What a bloody, Blighted mess,” Marian groused.

 

“This won’t go well when I tell Leliana.” 

 

Gwyn perked up at the mention of the Inquisition spymaster. “Oh, it gets worse. Leli’s going to blow her top when we tell her about it. Warden-Commander Clarel apparently found a blood magic ritual to prevent future Blights before all the Wardens perish. I protested, and the Wardens present all turned on me to a man. I had to kill people I’d known for years to get away with my life. But, on the plus side, it means I know that Clarel and her followers are gathering in the Western Approach. Mar, the map please?”

 

Marian snapped to attention, “Right! Of course.”

 

Slinging her pack from her hip into her lap, the Champion reached in and pulled out a battered map. She unrolled it across the table, and handed Gwyn a stick of paper-wrapped charcoal. Stormheart green eyes scanned the Western Approach, then marked the map. “This is an ancient Tevinter ritual tower. Meet me there, and we’ll find answers if I have to beat them from Clarel with my shield.”

 

Fen sat forward. “I can do that. But tell me, how do you and Marian know each other?”

 

“I grew up with her cousin Solona, first of all. Also, I met her during the Qunari attack on Kirkwall. I take it her dwarven friend with the chest hair left that out of his book?”

 

* * *

 

The memory of the chat, comfortable as an old friend and a favorite pair of leggings, echoed in Fen’s mind as they stared at the Nightmare and the rift beyond its gigantic legs. 

 

“How do we get by?” Gwyn shouted over the growling.

 

“Go, I’ll cover you!” Marian shouted back, fingers going white from the grip on her halberd.

 

“No, the Wardens caused this mess, a Warden must-”

 

“A Warden must help them rebuild, that’s your job! Corypheus is mine. Think of Duncan!”

 

“What about your elf and Maureva? They need you!”

 

“I let Corypheus free!”

 

“You wouldn’t have had to carry that burden if the Wardens hadn’t kidnapped your mother!”

 

“Gwyn,” Fen could barely speak around the lump in her throat, knowing she was sending the other elf to her death. 

 

“Right choice. Good luck. I’ll keep it off you.” As Gwyn created her spirit sword and pulled the shield from her back, a Shimmering Shield enveloped her, then she slid into the half-there, half-not state of her Fade Shroud. Small tendrils of raw Fade drew into her, and a whirl of Elemental Chaos surrounded her blurred form.

 

A cry of pure rage tore from her throat as Gwyn charged forward, “For the Wardens!”

 

The first blast of magic directed from the spirit sword rocked the Nightmare, almost knocking it onto its back. Fen and Marian ran forward, Solas, Dorian, and Bull in Fen’s peripheral vision. Bull charged through the rift at full speed without looking back, disappearing with a bright flash. Dorian cast a pained glance over his shoulder at the Warden slicing a palp off the giant spider. The roar of pain from the demon rumbled the ground, and Solas stumbled. 

 

Marian caught him by the arm, “Keep going!” 

 

They flashed through the rift, and Fen glanced back. A shimmering blur was barreling towards Fen, and hit her in the midsection. They both flew backwards out of the rift, rolling across the flagstones of Adamant and coming to a stop in a panting, tangled mess of limbs.

 

Gwyn rolled off Fen onto her back, coughing and dropping Shield and Shroud. As her form solidified, she panted out, “Thank the Maker that worked.”

  
  



End file.
